


Tanjouiwaj

by Macx



Series: Borderlines [23]
Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-15
Updated: 2011-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ezra receives a gift from Chris's mother in the mail</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tanjouiwaj

 

It was a day like any other, at least for Ezra Standish. He was going after his work as an Agent for Section 7 of the Agency, preparing for a new case that was to launch next week. His role was a minor one, with Nathan and JD playing the main roles as buyers of illegal medication that had hit the market in the last three months. While the drugs weren’t dangerous, the company that produced them had had major losses because someone had stolen a large shipment off each freight run. Ezra was back-up, together with Chris, and three Agents of the Pegasus.  
Today was actually a day people celebrated. It was his birthday, but Ezra had never found reason to celebrate. As a child, he had been branded early on. An outsider because of his genes, with special talents to read people, and a knack when it came to lifting things off the unwary, breaking into buildings, and generally stealing what wasn’t nailed down. And even that wasn’t really an insurance. His teacher in the art of conning, thieving and gambling had found personal indulgences like celebrating holidays or birthdays a waste of time and money. Holidays were for taking advantage of those who carried large amounts with them, for lifting the expensive jewelry they bought for their loved ones, for breaking into houses of those who had left for the season.  
No, his birthday had never come up. Ezra hadn’t even thought about his exact date of birth until he had first become part of the Chimera team. The others always came into the spirit of things and while he had partaken, smiling, selecting small presents, he hadn’t drawn attention to his own birthday. He had successfully evaded the subject. In his first year, the others hadn’t asked until much too late, and he had warded them off. In his second year, he hadn’t been himself at the time. He had been injected with White Out while undercover and his mind had been erased. No one had seen reason to celebrate then and no one had actually wanted to throw a party afterwards. Now, in his third year with the Agency, the day had come again and again Ezra ignored it.  
Too bad the day didn’t ignore him.  
Work was the usual. No change there. Chris was busy setting up the new case, talking to the leader of the Pegasus team, to Travis, as well as with Nathan and JD. Their covers had to be air tight. No one wanted to risk anything, even if it was a minor operation compared to other busts. But one mistake could cost a life.

Going home, Ezra briefly checked on his partner, but he only found a shield. Okay, Chris was still busy. He shed his uniform jacket and walked into his bedroom, pulling out a pair of jeans and a sweater. Despite three years of Agency service, he still found the uniform less than aesthetically pleasing and would rather go without it. But office work meant the uniform. No matter what. One more reason why work away from Four Corners was so appealing.  
As he went to the fridge to get himself something to drink, Ezra found a post-it note. ‘Dinner. 7 p.m. My place’. No signature. He smiled slightly and put the beer back into the fridge. Checking the time, the thief decided to be early and walked over to the connecting door. It was unlocked, so he went into his partner’s quarters, unsuspecting what he would find there.  
Ezra was, mildly put, surprised as he stepped into the living room, finding not only Chris Larabee, but also the others present, lounging on the couch, drinking soft drinks or beer, eating chips and finger food.  
“Ezra!” Buck exclaimed, grinning wildly.  
“There you are,” Chris greeted him, dropping the shield he had upheld all the time.  
“Uh, Chris?” Ezra stammered.  
His eyes darted over to the kitchen counter and to his horror, he discovered several packages. Oh no! He stepped back from his advancing partner, ready to flee to the relative safety of his own quarters, but found his way barred.  
“Going somewhere?” Josiah asked pleasantly.  
“Yes. If you’d be so kind as to step aside?” Ezra requested, panic rising.  
“Nope.”  
“What do you mean, nope?”  
“He means that this time we a) remembered and b) will celebrate your birthday,” Chris said, now right behind him.  
“Chris…”  
“You’re not weaseling out of this, pard,” Vin called, smiling.  
“I do not weasel!” Ezra stated, looking offended.  
They grinned at him, Josiah not moving away from the closed door, Chris still at his side.  
<Chris!> he pleaded.  
<It’ll be okay, Ezra> was the calming reply.  
<But.. I don’t know how… I mean…>  
He received a gentle hug. <I know. It’s why we kept this in the family. No surprise party planned by Buck, no birthday songs>  
Ezra sighed deeply. <Thank god for small favors> he murmured.  
Chris grinned. He gave him a little push toward the group. “C’mon,” he invited him.  
“I can’t evade this, can I?” It was a rhetoric question.  
“Nope,” Nathan proclaimed. “We’d just follow you around.”  
Another dramatic sigh. “Okay, let’s get it over with.”  
“Now, now,” Josiah rumbled. “That’s not the spirit, Ezra. It’s a day to celebrate, to receive gifts…”  
“Eat lots of cake,” Vin added with a wide grin.  
“Get seriously drunk,” Buck went on.  
“And very sick,” Nathan deadpanned.  
“What I must have missed the last thirty-five years,” Ezra muttered.  
“You have no idea,” Buck grinned. “And you get to have a lot of presents.”  
“Speaking of which…” JD jumped up and carried the different-sized packages over to the couch table. Ezra gazed at them in apprehension. “Well, pick one!” the pilot said excitedly.  
Ezra felt trepidation as he picked up the medium-sized one, surprised by its weight. It was from Josiah, wrapped in simple, brown paper, in a rectangular box. As he unwrapped it, everyone looked at the gift, curious. Ezra blinked as he finally held it in his hands. He didn’t know what to say. It was a hand-made carving of two horses. No, Kiowata, he corrected himself.  The wood had an interesting coloring, the black leading into the brown, which had the black Kiowata melt into the brown one. Both equines were running, the graining giving them a streaming appearance.  
“Ah… I don’t know what to say…” Ezra stuttered.  
“It’s a hobby.” Josiah shrugged.  
“Thanks.”  
“You’re welcome. I thought it would look good for the ranch.”  
Ezra swallowed, touched. “Thanks,” he repeated.  
He picked up the next one, which was the smallest. Nathan’s gift. The doctor was grinning mischievously and when Ezra had unwrapped it, he knew why.  
“Vouchers?” he asked, perplexed.  
There were thirty-five and he half laughed, half glared as he read what was written on the small cards.  
“Immunity shots? Distemper? Colic treatment?” He decided to glare, but he didn’t really get it across. He was too amused.  
“Hey, knowing you and looking at your past medical history, I’m going to see those vouchers again in the next few months.”  
“I never had a colic, Dr. Jackson,” Ezra growled, trying to look affronted. “That was Mr. Larabee. And I haven’t heard of Kiowata getting distemper, coughs, or runny noses.” He blinked at the next card. “Saddle soreness?!”  
JD gave up holding on to his laughter and Ezra rolled his eyes. He put the cards aside and reached for the last present, which was larger than Josiah’s, and felt soft.  
“Uh….” he made as he had unwrapped the collective gift from JD, Buck and Vin.  
It was made of leather, there was something like a pouch, a lot of straps and some buckles and Velcro fastenings.  
“I don’t even want to guess what that is!”  
Buck chuckled. “Half as bad as you think. It was actually JD’s idea….”  
Ezra looked at the pilot, who shrugged modestly. “Buck and Vin bought the material. I only designed it.”  
“And what is ‘it’?”  
“It’s a Kiowata backpack,” Vin explained. “Easy to strap on and off. The bag is large enough for essentials, like a blanket, and you can take off the straps and use it as a normal backpack as well.”  
Ezra gave the small bags a critical look. “A blanket?”  
“There’s actually two in there,” JD told him.  
The thief opened the bag and pulled out two thin, fine blankets. The material was almost like silk.  
“Keeps you very warm at night,” Buck explained. He grinned again. “Vin and I tested it.”  
“I hope you washed them,” Ezra commented, critically inspecting the material. “And this is supposed to keep someone warm?”  
“Yep. New stuff. Quite popular. JD found some via the Net. We wanted to make you two overalls, but Vin vetoed sneaking into your quarters and getting your sizes.” Buck’s eyes were sparkling.  
“Thank you, Lord,” Ezra sighed.  
“Anyway, the bags are handmade and the straps can be adjusted to size,” JD went on. “You want to try it out?”  
“Uh, I don’t think so….”  
“How about you, Chris?”  
Larabee chuckled. “If you think I’m going to get naked in front of you ladies….”  
Buck hooted.  
“… then you might be right,” their commander finished, getting up.  
Ezra shook his head. <Chris!> he groaned.  
<It’s not like they haven’t seen me naked before>  
A sigh. <Tell me why I put up with you?> Ezra asked the same question Chris had posed a long time ago.  
<Because I’m loveable, sensitive and shy?> came the immediate answer.  
Ezra started to laugh. “Sit down,” he told Larabee, who had started to unbutton his shirt. “We’ll try it out… later.”  
“Aw, Ez!” Buck complained.  
Vin elbowed him none-to-gently, ducking as his lover retorted in kind. Chris swallowed a grin and walked over to the fridge. He opened the freezer and pulled out his gift. Ezra’s head turned as he felt something trickle over the Bond and he blinked at the strange object in Chris’s hands. It was only a few inches high, made of ice, and obviously hand carved. It was an exotic looking figure, something that looked a bit like a work of art and a half melted tower.  
“Uh…what is it?”  
Chris chuckled. “You have to wait for it to melt….”  
“Ah. And then?”  
“You’ll see.”  
JD peered at it. “There’s something inside!”  
Ezra turned the sculpture in his hands, feeling it freeze his fingers. He was curious, but he was also slightly apprehensive. What had Chris planned? Knowing his lover, it was something special, but what? Making a decision, he rose and walked over to the kitchen, simply putting the sculpture into the microwave.  
Chris grimaced theatrically. <So much for the slow approach. I had planned to use that.. later>  
Ezra swallowed heavily at the image sent along the Bond. <Oh…> he made weakly.  
<Then again… there are other things as well> Chris added huskily.  
Ah hell…. Ezra felt his blood starting to heat up and he was relieved when the microwave announced that the time was up. He opened the machine and gingerly picked up the only still solid object in the small lake that was now on the revolving plate. It was made of stone, about the size of an ID card, and someone had engraved something in it with a laser pen.  
“Voucher,” he read. “A voucher?”  
Chris grinned widely. “Yep.”  
Ezra shook his head, smiling. He read on and his eyes widened.  
‘Voucher. For an unforgettable weekend in the Arctic Circle ice hotel. Includes a dog sledding experience and a sleigh ride.”  
Ezra stared at his lover, speechless.  
“You choose the weekend,” Chris simply said.  
“Okay,” he answered weakly.  
“Sounds like fun,” JD commented. “But isn’t it a bit cold in an ice hotel?”  
“Not according to the brochures I’ve read,” Nathan told him. “The place is made completely out of ice, but the temperature inside is much warmer than the outside. Body heat is another factor.”  
<And I intend to make a lot of body heat> Chris murmured seductively.  
Ezra swallowed.  
“There are some more,” Josiah announced and pushed a small cargo crate over.  
Ezra put the voucher next to the wooden carving. He frowned as he looked at the crate. Then he looked at he address and something inside of him clenched in apprehension. It was from Earth. The Larabee Ranch.  
<Chris?> he asked, unsure.  
“Open it!” JD called, excited.  
<You heard the kid. Open it> Chris chuckled.  
And he did. He found a card on top, signed both by the General and Sharron Larabee. It had picture of wide open space, mountains in the distance, and a small herd of horses on the front. He placed it carefully on the table, then lifted the small package that was placed on top of a much larger, very flat parcel out of it.  
It was from Chris’s father.  
Ezra steeled himself for whatever the General would give him, and he stared in astonishment at the bottle of old wine and the two antique drinking cups. Nathan peered at the label and whistled.  
“Whoa! Now there’s an exquisite year.”  
Chris picked up one of the milky white cups, giving them a critical look. “I wonder who Dad had to kill to get those,” he remarked.  
Ezra’s head whipped around and his lover grinned.  
“Those are authentic Roman cups.”  
Ezra looked at the second one, reverently touching it. How had the General known he liked antiques?  
<I might have mentioned it once> Chris sent innocently.  
<Oh….>  
It was hard to catch a thought. He hadn’t expected something so… personal … or even expensive.  
<That’s my Dad for you>  
Ezra reigned in his emotions and placed the cups back into the parcel, next to the bottle. He looked at the flat, securely packed item. With some help from Josiah, he lifted it out of the crate. It was from Chris’s mother. Inhaling deeply, he began to open it. When he had finally removed the last piece of protective board, Ezra looked down on the birthday present he had received from Sharron Larabee, and his jaw simply hit the ground with an almost audible thud out of pure astonishment.  
It was a picture, and at first Ezra had thought it was a photograph, but taking a closer look he realized it was a painting. It showed him and Chris sitting on the steps of the ranch’s porch; Chris behind him, arms wrapped around him while their hands were entwined. They were looking out the wide open country, and somewhere in the back he could make out two Kiowata, playing. The signature said “S. Larabee, Comfort and Joy”  
Oh my gawd…, he thought panic, confusion and something else warring inside of him. Oh. My. Gawd! It was so life-like, so incredibly accurate, down to the very last dimple. Of course, JD had taken pictures of the Thanksgiving disaster. Well, mostly disaster and later a more pleasant time. But… but… Ezra flailed for words.  
Sharron Larabee.  
She had painted him a picture.  
Of Chris and Ezra.  
It was fast going way beyond him.  
Chris had watched him, sending a wordless question over the Bond. Ezra looked at him, feeling dazed.  
“It’s a painting,” he managed. “Your mom painted … us…“  
Chris walked over to him, giving the picture a critical look, eyes alight. “She did? My mother used to be a good painter, but she hasn’t done it in a long time. “  
Ezra blinked at that. His lover wasn’t actually very much surprised at what had been painted but that his mother had picked up a brush to get them on canvas.  
“She has?” he heard his near-squeak.  
“Oh yes. Looks good.” Chris sent pride and warmth.  
“It does,” Ezra managed faintly, reeling more.  
“Hey, Ez, show us!” Nathan called.  
He turned the painting and the others looked at it, talking excitedly about it. He noticed the thoughtful look Buck gave him, as he looked at the picture and made a silent note to ask him about it later.

The birthday party was still going loudly. Josiah had rented two movies and the team was busy commenting on the action scenes, cheering, booing and doing their best to play movie critics. Ezra had long since lost track of the actual plot and was simply enjoying the company. As he walked over to the kitchen counter to salvage the rest of the cake Chris had made, he became aware of Buck. The other Agent was inspecting something in his beer.  
“You ‘traveled’ a lot in your time, Ezra. Did you ever hear of a painter called Manningss?” Wilmington asked out of the blue.  
Ezra pushed the slice of cake onto his plate and licked chocolate off his fingers. “Yes. I actually visited one of the exhibitions once… not within the official opening hours, to be precise,” he flashed Buck a grin, “but the paintings were quite remarkable. Manningss was known for accuracy and truthfulness in his style.”  
Buck nodded, leaning against the fridge. “So you remember the style, but you don’t recognize it?”  
“Recognize?” Ezra looked at the painting once again, and this time it dawned slowly. “You mean… this is… she was…?”  
“Her maiden name was Manningss, Ezra,” Buck said calmly. “She stopped painting ten years ago, the very day Adam died. She hasn’t touched a canvas ever since.”  
Ezra felt like hit in the stomach. He grabbed the edges of the counter, feeling light-headed, while something buzzed in his ears. Closing his eyes, he tried to calm himself, but the uproar continued.  
“Ezra?”  
<Ezra?>  
<In a minute> he told his soul partner, opening his eyes, smiling wanly at Buck.  
“I’m… I’m fine.”  
“Try another one, Ez.”  
“It’s just… kind of a shock,” he confessed, running a shaky hand through his hair. “I didn’t expect… I mean, after Thanksgiving… and now that….” He made a helpless gesture.  
Buck smiled at him. “Well, you’re part of a real family now, pard.

It was in the early morning hours when the team finally left Chris and Ezra alone. Chris was cleaning up the disaster area that was his living room. Ezra sat on a kitchen stool, a glass in one hand, looking at the picture Sharron had painted. The framed work of art had been propped up on a cupboard against the wall, and the green eyes looked almost lost, a faraway expression in his eyes.  
Chris walked over to him, slipping his arms around his lover’s waist. “You okay?” he asked, resting his chin on Ezra’s shoulder, gazing at the beautiful painting.  
“You never told me,” Ezra said.  
“What? That my mother paints?”  
“That she is…. Mannings. She’s famous! And now she gave me a real Mannings. The first in ten years.” Ezra sounded awed.  
“Yep.”  
“Yep? Is that all you have to say? Chris, your mother’s works are in museums all over the Joined Governments!”  
“Yep,” Chris answered again, grinning.  
Ezra sighed, rolling his eyes. Chris kissed the back of his lover’s neck.  
“She was always my Mom, Ezra. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t really think of her as Sharron Mannings, famous artist. She doesn’t talk about her work either, so… it never came up.”  
“Till now.”  
A nod. “Till now. I’m glad she’s painting again. She loved her work. It relaxed her. She once told me that when she’s painting, she’s in another world.”  
Ezra ran his fingers over Chris’s hands, leaning back into the embrace. “I’m honored,” he confessed. “Overwhelmed.”  
“I know.” Chris loosened his embrace and stepped in front of the thief, breaking the line of sight he had had with the picture. “As am I.” He pulled his lover up, kissing him long and gently. “C’mon. Let’s got to bed. I’m dead.”  
Ezra nodded, following Chris.  
As he lay next to him, close but not hugging, he reflected on the sudden turn of his life, his luck, the day he had met Commander Chris Larabee on BP-379. He had changed, he knew, and most of the changes had been because of the Bond. Without it, the level of trust that existed between them would never have been reached. Without it, he would have left BP-379 and Chris, he would have gone back to his old life. Without it, he would be alone. Without it, he would never have found this kind of friendship and loyalty, this family.  
Ezra smiled, feeling Chris’s presence, wrapped around him. His first birthday celebration. Actually, his first birthday at all. Hadn’t been all that bad. Actually, it had been real good.  
<’course it was> he heard Chris’s sleepy murmur.  
Ezra briefly pushed himself up and kissed his half-awake lover, feeling the smile through the Bond.  
<Thank you, Chris>  
<You’re welcome>  
Ezra yawned and curled up under the cover, drifting off. It had been a great day. Better than he could ever have imagined it.


End file.
